shamu

Being a Texas Longhorns fan (that’s my alma mater), nothing was bigger than last night’s game.
Texas 41, Southern California 38.
We are now National Champions!
For the next few days till this weekend, the UT Tower will be lit orange with a big #1 on each side, as shown here in this photo from UT’s web site:

There is a real-time tower cam. If you visit this page during night time in the Central Standard Time zone from now to this weekend (January 8, 2006), you should see the same picture as above.

Like Lee Corso on ESPN said, this game will go down in history as one of the best college football games EVER played. I know, he’s a little opinionated, but hey, nothing is too exaggerating when you describe the heroic comeback, especially what Vince Young has done with his magical legs.
What makes this game extra interesting to me is that my sister and her husband are actually students of USC now. So you can imagine, above and beyond all the hypes built towards this game, between two undefeated teams one looking to three-peat (USC) and the other to finally win that game after winning all but the big ones (Texas), our little extra twist makes the game so much more special.

继续阅读

As Chinese and non-Christian, we do not celebrate Christmas as a religious holiday. We do not skip it either. Instead, like typical Chinese living in America, we celebrate it by eating. In our case, it was cooking and eating some home-style food.


Also want to mention–I have no problem with “Merry Christmas”, and I don’t think it’s a problem for most Chinese. After all, the festival has never had any religious meaning to us to begin with. It is just another holiday that sits nicely before the New Year to make the end-of-year rush easier to manage.

Thanksgiving is tomorrow and today many Americans are on the road. I’m currently in Chicago–been here since last weekend and later today we are driving back together home.
It’s snowing heavily outside. All the news channels, meanwhile, are reporting at different airports how busy they have become, especially at Chicago O’Hare, where the flights are being delayed for more than an hour.
This may be boring for you, but, surprise, this is another pleasure I enjoy annually. For some reason, I just love those shots in the airport, on the road, showing other people traveling. Call it my guilty pleasure No. 2. Maybe it’s enjoying the travel without the hassle of travel, to some extent. Maybe it’s because I just love it when the whole nation seems to be on the move.
On a relative note, Thanksgiving is tomorrow. Juju was prepared to make rounds at the post-Thanksgiving sales, otherwise known as Black Friday. My suggestion was to avoid it as much as possible. After all, this is just the beginning of shopping season and stores are not marking everything on sale. I used to have lofty expectations for these sales but always got disappointed—the stores use so-few-it’s-impossible-to-get cheap items to get you in there but nothing else interesting was on sale. Throw in the sleepless night and the horrible traffic at 5AM on the highway. It’s never worth it.
Happy Thanksgiving!

托的’s blog on language and the ensuing discussion make some interesting points. It reminds me of my personal experience of learning English.
When I first learned to speak English in the mid 1980s, I tried hard to imitate the American accent. Back then, the only resource (and a very good one) was the Voice of America. I started with Special English, a program targeting beginners using a small set of words and broadcast very slowly but clearly. To this day, I still think this is the best resource for English pronunciation. I was lucky to find it as early as I did. I loved to listen to programs such as Words and Their Stories, the American Mosaic. Words and Their Stories are made up of stories about American slangs. The American Mosaic depicts life and social phenomena in the US. Not only did I learn many English words through these programs, but I also, as a boy in a faraway nation who is strongly interested in the American culture, got a close and vivid look at what it was like to live in America. While there were other controversies on VOA offerings, as an English learner, I am greatly appreciative of the English programs it broadcast. I am glad to see now it all the programs available online. With the convenience of listening to it any time anywhere, today’s English learners probably cannot picture what it was like for me to wait on a certain time, search through the noises on a short-wave radio on countless nights, and the joy of discovering the most authentic pronunciation.
Thank you, VOA.

… in Chicago.
I have been driving to Chicago every weekend so far. As everyone knows, parking is hectic in the loop. To help my wife’s move-in and settling down, I paid for the first month’s parking in the apartment’s garage. At $210 a month, it’s still below the market rate. Now that we are settled down, and decided not to pay the exorbitant charges, so looking for a parking space has become our favorite pastime (with monetary reward). This weekend we had to do it twice, on Friday night and Saturday night. Fortunately, there are a few street parking spaces that open up for the weekend. Boy, did they fill up fast! Also, near where we live, there are a couple of streets with free all-time parking, a rarity in the loop. I even saw a space open today after I parked my car on my way home. Within 10 seconds, a car pulled over and backed into the parallel space. I figure for every ten cars in the area, there must be nine looking for parking, and the remaining one just pulling out. Garage parking costs over 30 dollars for 24 hours, and meters are a quarter for five minutes. No wonder people are willing to circle around forever to find a free spot, and stay there as long as they can.
For us, instead of paying the garage, we decided to park on the street. There’s always one available on weekends if we are willing to go farther. It just means a little more exercise. For us, this is the perfect solution.
If you ever need to park in the loop in Chicago, let me know and I’ll share with you my experience.

Today is the Moon Festival. I don’t even remember when I last celebrated. I mean, real celebration. Sure, I have managed a few bites of moon cakes, but since I’ve never really enjoyed this part of the Moon Festival, it should not count. Being with my parents and sister. The last time this was even possible was 1994. Ten years ago. It’s been a long journey.
People say the Mid Autumn Festival (the literal translation of 中秋节, the Chinese name) to Chinese is what Thanksgiving to Americans. But from my memory, the Festival is always more associated with distant love than family reunions, right from the origin of the story. The image of 嫦娥 (Chang E) waving to the husband in the moon forever etched in my mind. Being physically apart, yet never closer in heart–it is type of romance we understand all too well. Not the chocolate, flower, fragrance type the westerners are more comfortable with.
When I drove back from Chicago last night, the full moon was hanging above in the sky, pouring the silver light all over the prairie. With me being one of the few cars traveling on the highway, cruising at 80 miles an hour, and Chinese pop music playing in my CD, I felt like I’m in another world. It is a strange feeling, but at the moment I enjoyed it. Being oneself and enjoying oneself in such a setting does not happen often, and I made sure I treasured the moment.
Happy Moon Festival, everyone!

Today I went to Starbucks and bought a cup of coffee. Man, it’s like 100% caffeine! I had the coffee at around 3PM, and even now at 10:20 I feel like I’m going to be up all night! When I think how many people come in here and get their fix every day, this is kind of scary.
Which reminds me of my most favorite comedian, Bill Maher. (He is the best, period.) He’s an avid supporter of the legalization of marijuana. To him, smoking marijuana is no different from smoking cigarettes, drinking alcohol or drinking coffee. Each is addictive, makes people high and does not harm others in any way (except second-hand smoking, which is why it’s banned indoors almost everywhere). It should be each adult’s own responsibility to not abuse them.
If I visit Starbucks, I’ll be in for the T-Mobile HotSpot wireless connection, not the coffee. Maybe a cup of tea, at most.

I’ve been adjusting to the weekly commuting life for the past three weeks. It’s not easy, but I got something positive out of it—the switch of cities and atmosphere is a nice reward for the time spent on the road.
The next few weeks will be adjustment for me again—I’ll be taking public transportation (Amtrak) instead of driving. The inhibitive parking expenses are just too much, at more than $200 a month. The advantage of public transportation is obvious: I can do something on the train, like blogging. The price is the loss of my flexibility.

Alright, I guess by now everyone has guessed this bigger city I’ve been referring to is–Chicago. Chicago is a great city, especially in summer. And I’ve only recently discovered its beauty.
Today’s Friday, and I’m back in Chicago again. Wife is too tired from working to do anything other than sleep after dinner (talk about life of a consultant!). And that left me with the empty living room with a notebook on top of my lap, facing the well-lit skyscrapers out of the windows, blogging. The small city where I was earlier today (I’m going to keep this one secret for now) seems so far.
On a side note, these two days this site has been spammed pretty bad–I got about 10 junk postings every day. Extremely annoying. The originating IP address kept changing. All I could do was deleting each post individually and banning each individual IP. Does anyone know how to block this? I need your help.

It’s late night and I was about to sign off but the urge to blog kept coming back to me. “Alright”， I told myself, “if there’s a visitor in the next minute I’ll owe him/her a new one”. And truth be told, the counter just went from 1900 to 1901.
One of the nice momeries of life came last week when I went to pick up my wife at the airport. It was a long flight from Beijing to Chicago. I was wandering in the terminal, with the two dozen roses in hand. It’s just less than two months since I left Beijing, but it seemed so long.
“请问您讲国语吗?” (”Do you speak mandarin?”) I heard a man asking me and wondering how he knew I was Chinese.
“是” (”Sure.”) I nodded.
“Are you also waiting for someone from UA 850?”
“Sure.”
“Is it here yet?”
“Yes, they are passing the customs, I guess.”
…
“Where did you buy the flowers? In this airport?”
“No, I brought them in.”
A hint of disappointment came and went away, quickly. By now, I started to be curious about the guy. Why was he so eager to talk to a Chinese and getting something for the person he’s picking up? It must be some special person and there must be stories behind him.
It turned out to be 40 minutes before I met my wife, and the conversation never stopped as we both stared at the big screens monitoring the exits from the customs area. A long but brief story, told by his nondescriptive tone:
He’s a delivery worker in Chicago’s Chinatown, speaking no English. An ex-restaurant waiter, he was caught once by the INS as an illigal immigrant. Desperate, he went to fight in the court (with some help from an agent). Luckily, he won the case and became a citizen. The wife, who was in China and has not seen him for five years since he left, just immigrated to the US. Literally, as she was on the flight and was passing the customs as we spoke. His child, now 12 years old, was still waiting for American immigration approval. He was telling this little by little, as if it was just something natural, everyday life. And the woman he had not seen for five years was coming out any time!
I wanted to turn my head from the monitors to him, to again watch a man, a Chinese man, moments before the time he probably dreamed about for all these years. But I didn’t, not because I did not want to seem strange, but because I knew I could anticipate what I would see. A face that would have no sign of excitement. After all, he’s been through too many dramatic things in life, and this one, as comforting as it would be, is just another step towards his next chapters in life.
Still, I was deeply moved. By the resilience of life. By the endless pursuit of opportunities in the worst conditions.
I offered him the flowers, joking it didn’t really matter much for our short separation. But he politely declined.
In no time, my wife appeared in the right exit. A different, and prettier, look from last I saw. A hug and kiss later, we found ourselves pushing her cart towards the guy. I told her the story, and she happened to know his wife as they met in the check-in line in Beijing. I also told her about the flowers. Being a super sweet person, my wife offered the flowers again to the guy with little hesitation. And with some persuation (”We don’t need the flowers any more…”), the guy happily accepted.
Four days passed and I couldn’t help but recall the whole scene over and over again. I am sure the wife was beyond herself when she saw her husband first time in five years, and am positive the little roses would bring more joy to the reunion. I hope the guy didn’t tell the truth to her, and even wanted to have him describe how he carefully selected the flowers instead. That would be the best use of our flowers and our blessings will always be with them, secretly.
I wish I were a better writer to capture the feelings of us humans. But regardless, this would stuck me as one of life’s treasurable moments. My eyes are always open for such times.